


Sons & Fathers

by Rebekah_Zellers



Category: NCIS
Genre: Father-Son Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 09:44:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16015349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebekah_Zellers/pseuds/Rebekah_Zellers
Summary: A series of one shots showing a father son relationship between Tony and Gibbs.This will be an ongoing story, as an idea hits that fits, I will write for it.





	1. Going Home

Gibbs would never admit how much the shooting and subsequent surgery took out of him. Having his chest cracked, his heart worked on for hours, his knee replaced had left him feeling human. The days, weeks and months that followed were a haze of pain. He struggled daily to rise above it; not let it win. He was doing a pretty convincing job to everyone, except Tony.

 

Tony watched his boss as he struggled to get comfortable, the long hours of this case wearing the older man down. He could see him stretching and bouncing the leg, he knew that despite the knee replacement that it still gave him trouble. When he heard the soft grunt, he knew he had to intervene. “Boss?” Tony stood and walked over to his superior’s desk. “We’re getting nowhere on this. Maybe a meal and some sleep would do us all some good.”

 

“Go home,” Gibbs grunted. “Don’t come in until nine. Couple good meals, some sleep, we’ll work on it again tomorrow.” 

 

Tony grabbed his gear and ran from the bull pen. He hurried to his car, drove as quickly as he dared home. Feeding the fish, he grabbed everything he had in the fridge to make for dinner, a clean suit, his overnight bag, and headed out. By the time Gibbs got home, Tony was already in his kitchen cooking dinner.

 

“Thought you wanted to go home?” Gibbs grunted, his tone contained no heat. He was actually relieved to find Tony there cooking. “That smells great, Tony. How long before it is ready?”

 

“Forty-five minutes,” Tony pointed to the clothes that were on the kitchen table. “Go change, I want to take a look at that knee, Boss.”

 

“You a doctor now?” Gibbs called as he made his way to the downstairs bathroom to change.

 

“Nope,” Tony laughed. “If you recall, I went with you to one of your appointments and a couple of your therapy sessions. They showed me a few things. You were in so much pain then, I wouldn’t be surprised if you don’t remember.”

 

“I don’t” Gibbs sighed as he came back into the kitchen. 

 

“Floor is out of the question the way you are limping right now,” Tony pointed to the couch. “Get horizontal so I can take a look.” Tony set the timer for twenty-five minutes, that was more than adequate for what he needed to do. It would pull him away in enough time to finish the meal, giving Gibbs enough time to get himself settled. “This is really swollen, Gibbs.” Tony hurried to the freezer, grabbed the bag of peas. Pulling a pillow from a nearby chair, Tony elevated Gibbs’ leg and placed the ice pack on it. “Take some deep breaths, it may work better if you close your eyes. That’s it. It’s okay to fall asleep; rest Boss. I’ll get you up when dinner is ready.”

 

“My stomach might beat you do that, Tony. I’m starving.” Gibbs whispered as he drifted off to sleep, his knee nicely numbed by the cold.

Jethro woke up to Tony singing softly while he cooked. The music playing seemed to be coming from his friend's phone. Cautiously moving his leg, he was amazed to see how much the cold and elevation helped. He couldn’t help but smile when he realized his bag of peas had been switched out for an actual ice pack, one that had mysteriously appeared just the week before.

 

“You’re awake!” Tony smiled. “Can you do me a favor? I need the garlic butter brushed on those slices of bread.”

 

“This is fresh,” Gibbs poked at the slices. “Where did this come from?”

 

“You’re not the only one that Elaine likes,” Tony laughed. “I sneak a jar of my sauce into the diner, she sneaks me a loaf of fresh bread. It’s a win-win.”

 

Tony placed a white pill by the glass of water he poured for his friend. Gibbs looked at the pill then to Tony. There were several things he couldn’t remember from the first days of recovery, the one thing he did remember was therapy was painful. Tony obviously planned on doing his therapy exercises with him in order to work out the issues with the knee. Taking the pill with the entire glass of water, Jethro didn’t miss the look of relief that washed over his confidant’s face.

 

“You are going to love this,” Tony dished out a healthy portion of his spinach, chicken and pasta in a white wine butter sauce for Gibbs to try. “You need the protein so be a good boy and eat all your protein and veggies, Popeye.”

 

“Every single time she calls me that, I cringe,” Gibbs snorted.

 

“But she cares or she wouldn’t bait you like that,” Tony put a piece of bread at Jethro’s plate. “I’m going to get us some juice to go with dinner. Be right back.”

 

The food was delicious; Gibbs could not remember the last time he had a home cooked meal. The company was also welcome, he knew he was safe with Tony, that made the difference.

 

“It is,” Tony nodded as he picked up the plates to clear the table.

 

“What?” Gibbs startled.

 

“You said, my secret is safe with you, Tony.” DiNozzo put the plates in the sink to soak. “Boss, I didn’t come here today so I could have something to talk to McGee and Bishop about tomorrow. I came here so I could help you, I could see how much you were hurting all day. If going back to the drawing board is going to help, that’s what we do. Nobody has to know that I am playing with your sexy leg.”

 

Snorting with laughter, Jethro stood, stretched and headed to take a shower. By the time he was done, Tony had the kitchen cleaned up, the bed turned back and was ready to work on his leg. “How’d you know I was sleeping in here?”

 

“No pillows and blankets on the couch,” Tony shrugged. “I just followed the scent of sawdust and coffee, it led me here.”

 

“You put sheets on the bed,” Gibbs pointed to the made bed.

 

“Sometimes, you need someone to push you along. Shannon wouldn’t want you hurting like you are hurting.” Tony pointed to the bed. “Get comfy, we have some work to do. Take this pill first, it’s the muscle relaxer.” Tony purposely spaced the pills apart. The pain medication helped his friend get up and moving so he could take care of his personal needs, the muscle relaxer would keep him from hating Tony too much.

 

Tony worked the leg and hip, he was careful to do just the exercise they had been shown. By the time he was done, Jethro was loopy, exhausted and sound asleep. “Little ice won’t hurt.” Tony jogged downstairs, grabbed another ice pack and jogged back up. Gently placing Gibbs’ leg on a pillow, he put the ice pack on before heading to the shower. 

 

“Beautiful night,” a soft, feminine voice filled the air. “I got your text.”

 

“Thank you for answering it,” Tony smiled. “Have a seat, I brought you some tea out.” Tony rocked gently on the porch swing as Grace Confalone joined him. “I want to help him.” Tony nodded towards the house. “More than drugging him and doing physical therapy on his knee.”

 

“It’s a process,” Grace sighed. “He’s got years of scar tissue on that heart of his, he won’t let go.”

 

“He’s starting to,” Tony smiled. “He’s sleeping in their bedroom. I don’t know when that happened, he’s been sleeping on top of the plastic on the mattress, but he’s in there. I wanted to make sure he was taken care of, I put sheets and blankets on the bed while he showered.”

 

“How’d he respond?” Grace questioned softly.

 

“His eyes,” Tony shook his head. “There was pain, but it was soon replaced by a look of relief. There are boxes all over that room.”

 

“And you feel as long as they are there, he’s still living in the past?” Grace took a drink of her tea.

 

“No,” Tony shook his head. “I feel as long as they are there, he’s not living at all. He’s existed for twenty-five years. When is he going to allow himself to live? It’s not my place, I should leave it alone.”

 

“You may be the only one that can guide him,” Grace watched Tony’s face for a moment. “Okay, what if I guide him and you support him?”

 

“He’s going to hate that,” Tony gently stood so he didn’t cause the swing to move too fast. “I don’t want to hurt him, Dr. Confalone, he’s had enough of that. I want to help. For years, he’s given me attitude about the decisions that I have made in my life because he was afraid that I was turning out just like him. Alone, angry, resentful, hurting. I was lost for a long time, I had a huge sea of regret that I was swimming in; I still do.”

 

“What do you regret?” Grace moved to stand with her new friend. 

 

“We’ve lost a lot of people over the years,” Tony whispered through tear filled eyes. Lives that I should have been able to save, but couldn’t. People that meant something to him, that are no longer here.”

 

“Meant something to you too, Tony.” Grace pushed. “You don’t get to downplay their role in your life. That doesn’t make it any less painful for you. Yes, their loss hurt him. You didn’t do that. Ari killed Kate, that pain was caused by Ari. Mike Franks died protecting Gibbs. Jenny Shepherd was terminally ill, she died protecting him too.”

 

“I should have,” Tony sat down with a thud on the stop step of the porch. “Should have done something.”

 

“Jumped in front of those bullets?” Grace pushed. “If you had, what shape would he be in now? You are the most consistent person in his life the fifteen years that you have been on the team.” Grace sat beside Tony and put her hand on his. “I have read his file; I know a little about him. The one thing that stuck out for me was that when you joined his team, he didn’t marry again. You fulfilled that sense of family that he was searching for.”

 

“He did that for me,” Tony smiled. “He taught me more about being a man than my own father did.”

 

“You are a good man, Anthony DiNozzo.” Grace smiled. “Want me to look him over before I go?”

 

“You using that as an excuse to check out this room; plan your next move?” Tony stood and put a hand out to help Grace up.

 

“Maybe,” Grace smiled. “Maybe not. Maybe, I just want to see him in his PJs.”

 

“With ice on his knee, drugged unconscious. Yeah, this is going to be good.” Tony laughed. “Come on, I’ll take you up.”

 

“Gibbs?” The lady doctor gently monitored his pulse. “Hey Gunny? Can you open your eyes for a minute?”

 

“Doc?” Gibbs cleared his throat. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I had a friend that needed to talk,” Grace smiled. “He had a friend that needed a doc. I want you to do me a favor, Popeye. Let him in.”

 

Gibbs eased himself down in the chair to eat breakfast, Tony was making what looked to be blueberry pancakes. “You called Dr. Confalone?”

 

“I did,” Tony nodded as he put a plate in front of Gibbs, returning a couple seconds later with a cup of coffee. “Needed someone to talk to, Gibbs. Sometimes, the world is just a bit too big.”

 

Breakfast was eaten in silence; Tony was sure that Gibbs was furious with him. By the time he was ready to leave, he had to go looking for his boss. “Gibbs?” Tony called softly from the bedroom doorway. “You okay?”

 

Handing Tony a small wooden box, the older man turned away to get dressed while Tony opened it. “It’s rules,” Tony smiled. “Shannon invented the rules. I never would have guessed,” Tony laughed. “I knew they weren’t a Marine thing, Sgt. Atlas told me that. She had beautiful handwriting, Gibbs.”

 

Handing two pictures over, Gibbs sat down beside his surrogate son. “I hurt her a lot by being a Marine; I hurt them both.”

 

“The military hurt them by taking you away so often, Boss. You made them proud, it’s written in their features. I can see how much they loved you and how proud they were of you.” Tony put a reassuring hand on his friend’s arm. “You should focus on that instead of thinking that you caused them unspeakable pain. You gave Shannon the greatest gift in her life, Kelly. Remember that.”

 

“This weekend,” Gibbs pointed to the boxes in the room. “Think you can help me carry this up to the attic?”

 

“Yeah,” Tony smiled. “I can do that.”


	2. Wake-up Call

“Duck?” Gibbs walked into autopsy a bit confused. The elder medical examiner had requested his presence, "you wanted to see me?".

 

“I did indeed, Jethro.” Ducky pointed to a chair. “I wanted to talk to you about Anthony. I dare say, the boy seems a bit out of sorts these last couple days. I suspect that it may have to do with the fact that no matter what the lad does, you are biting his head off. Your team doesn’t seem to want to follow his lead, no matter where it is going. Just this afternoon, I was coming into the building as Anthony was returning from investigating a hunch, on his own.”

 

“He wasn’t on his own,” Burly walked into autopsy. “I went with him; his gut said we needed to revisit the crime scene so we did. He broke the case after going over it again inch by inch.”

 

“Why am I just now hearing about this?" Gibbs barked as he stood. "Is he doing the interrogation?"

 

"Not yet," Burley paused. "He is up with Director Vance; he wants the suspect's blood checked before anyone gets locked in a room with him."

 

"Is Anthony afraid of a hallucinogenic?" Ducky interjected.

 

"Said in Baltimore, they had a suspect that acted the same way. They put him in interrogation, he sent five uniforms to the hospital." Burley sighed. "He came willingly, just like the Baltimore suspect. There is something similar, Tony doesn't want to risk it."

 

"Oh hell," Gibbs rolled his eyes and started for the elevator. "Find DiNozzo, I want him in interrogation with me."

 

“Gibbs,” Tony called out as Jethro was about to enter interrogation. “Wait until we can get some uniforms in the room with us; trust me on this one. Abby is running the blood now; we should wait.”

 

“If you aren’t in this room with me in two minutes, consider yourself fired,” Gibbs growled. 

 

“What is Gibbs doing?” Tim questioned from observation. “Tony wanted the tests from Abby back before they went in. We had a case where a man was being dosed, he broke Tony’s nose. We all got pretty banged up, I can’t believe Gibbs doesn’t remember that.”

 

“He remembers Timothy,” Ducky sighed. “For some reason, Anthony can do nothing right in Jethro’s eyes these days. This is his idea of teaching our dear Anthony a lesson. I have the paramedics already on their way. Abigail called me, the blood tests show that your suspect has ingested a substance that goes by the street name, Flakka. Hallucinogenic drug that gives the person that ingested it almost super human strength and a detachment from reality.”

 

 

“Wendell,” Tony yelled as the suspect lunged for Gibbs. “Don’t do it, come after me. Leave him alone. Anyone on the other side of that glass, get Gibbs the hell out of here.”

 

Gibbs had been knocked down, winded during the initial attack. Palmer watched in horror as McGee and Bishop ignored Tony’s plea for help. With Vance’s help, they managed to dodge in behind Tony as he struggled with Wendell and pull Gibbs out of the room by his feet.

 

“What the hell were you thinking?” Vance questioned as he helped Gibbs stand. “You could have been killed, Gibbs. Doctor Mallard, get him to Dr. Taft, have him look him over.” Turning to the massive number of agents coming down the hallway, Vance sighed in relief. “Do what you have to do; Agent DiNozzo’s fighting for his life in there.”

 

“Palmer,” Burley called out to the young man. “Get an ambulance for Tony.” 

 

Wendell went down like a ton of bricks as soon as a tranquilizer was administered. Ducky’s smaller size proving to be a benefit. Looking around the room, the doctor was astonished at the number of injuries sustained by the agents. “We’re going to need to get these men looked at, Director. They’ve taken some very nasty blows.”

 

“Tony,” Palmer cried out in horror. “Don’t try to move, Tony. There is an ambulance on the way now. Agent Gibbs is with Abby, she is going to have Dr. Taft look at him.”

 

“His chest,” Tony gasped. “Ducky, he hit his chest hard.”

 

“Okay, dear boy. I will let Dr. Taft know, but I want you to stay still. I can’t see inside to see how injured you are, Anthony.”

 

Gibbs didn’t fight Dr. Taft, in fact, he totally cooperated. He was more than a bit scared that the blow to the chest did some damage. His mind was not on Cyril or anything he was doing. In fact, his eyes were glued to the hallway waiting for Tony and the other agents to be brought in.

 

“Gibbs?” Dr. Taft called softly. “You with me?”

 

“Sorry, Doc.” Gibbs blinked hard to clear his eyes of the tears that were threatening to fall. He had screwed up, he had screwed up big. Waiting for Tony was more painful than the blow to the chest, what if Tony hadn’t been that luck. Thinking back to the moment before Tony screamed for someone to get him out, Jethro remembered that his agent had blocked him from being hit again.

 

“They are bringing him in,” Taft said softly. “Lean back for me, I want you to rest until he gets here. Just because you didn’t do any permanent damage doesn’t mean that you are okay.”

 

“Do you know what kind of shape he is in?” Gibbs whispered. 

 

“Unconscious,” Taft reported. “Made Ducky call me to tell me you too some blunt trauma to the chest before he passed out.”

 

“Want to explain to me why you had to go try to interrogate that suspect? My understanding is that Tony warned you, he had toxicology out trying to see if your suspect was going to pose a threat to any of the agents if let out of the holding cell.” Taft pushed.

 

“I’d like to know that answer myself,” Senior questioned from the doorway. “My son could have been killed today, Gibbs. What the hell were you thinking?”

 

“I was angry,” Gibbs sighed. “Angry that he went off without myself or the team to question this suspect; he hauled him in without my even knowing he had gone to get him.”

 

“Since I arrived in town,” Senior paused. “You have been a bastard to my son. If you were otherwise engaged, as I have been told you were, your team refused to go with him. What was he supposed to do? I have been told by a very reliable source that your team refused to help get my bleeding, nearly unconscious son out of the interrogation room, they let a man, not trained as an agent, go in and get you and my son out of the middle of a very dangerous situation.”

 

“They wouldn’t go with him?” Gibbs blinked in confusion. “That’s why Burley went?”

 

“It is, Gibbs.” Stan stepped into the room. “I vividly remember not having the support of your team when I was part of it. Different set of agents, different mentality, but same result. There was no way that I was going to allow Tony to go through, what I went through, to get the job done. One of the reasons I left was because I couldn’t keep being a one-man team when you were too busy being the Director’s right hand man, to back me.” 

 

 

“Stan,” Gibbs sighed. “Did you get hurt?”

 

“Couple bruised ribs, Tony took the brunt to spare us. He’s a good guy, Gibbs. Damn good agent too. Really, really good friend, you should be reintroduced to that part of him. He misses you; he misses that friendship the two of you had for years before you got it in your head that he was going to ruin his life by being like you.” Stan needed to stand up for his fellow agent, his friend. “We got drunk, right after Lizzie was killed and the case was closed. He laid it all out there, mostly so I would do the same. Gibbs, you’ve hurt him, a lot.”

 

“Listen, Gibbs.” Senior turned watching for his son. “It took me about forty years to learn how to be father to my son. He turned out to be a pretty damn good man because had you. Don’t let my being in his life, keep you from giving him that. You gave him more in the sixteen years on your team than I have in a life time.”

 

“I’ll go with him,” Palmer called as they ran past the room Gibbs was occupying. The hospital staff worked to stabilized the agent’s injuries. “Come on, Tony.” Palmer called out. “You can beat this; you are bigger than this. You have a playdate with Victoria; playdoh date.”

 

“Teach her,” Tony gasped. “To play ball.”

 

“Whatever you want to do,” Palmer smiled through his tears. “Whatever you want to do.”

 

“Go,” Tony motioned towards the door.

 

“You can’t go,” Palmer put Tony’s hand under the sheet. “Not yet.”

 

“Go, Gibbs.” Tony tried to free his hand.

 

“Doctor is coming with pain medication,” Senior promised. “He wanted to see your records; I don’t know your medical history.”

 

“Doesn’t do well with narcotics,” Gibbs reported from the doorway. “Can’t have anything sulfa or subcutaneous muscle relaxers.” Moving to sit in a chair by his agent’s side, Gibbs took a hand carefully in his own and just waited while Tony’s eyes slid shut, the need for sleep finally winning out. 

 

“He needs to spend the night due to the concussion,” the doctor reported. “He has a bruise kidney that I also need to keep an eye on. Several bruised ribs, two are broken. He dislocated his shoulder, we took care of that. When he’s released, he’s going to need rest.”

 

“He’ll get it,” Gibbs promised. “If I have to tie him down.”

 

“Knew you were kinky, Gibbs.” Tony mumbled with a smile.

 

“Agent Gibbs,” Palmer called softly to the man that was holding vigil for his agent. “You need some rest; they are going to move you both to a room. We’ve asked that you be placed together, explaining the consequences if you are not. They are going to take Tony, bed and all. I want you to put an arm around my neck; we’re going to get you into a wheelchair without jarring you too much.”

 

“Why aren’t you mad at me?” Gibbs whispered in Palmer’s ear.

 

“I am,” Palmer sighed. “However, I see the Gibbs that is hurting because this happened. You’re here; his father is in the waiting room. That’s saying something.”

 

“He’s in here and I am out there because my son seems to rest more comfortably with him by his side. If you ask me, that’s a testament to the bond they have or maybe had. As I said earlier, I know that I was not the father that my son needed. To be honest, I am not even sure if I am getting any of it right now, but I know that I am here. I also know when to step back and let his family take care of him.” Senior paused. “He has good people around him with you, Jimmy, and Stan. I’ll stay with my son while Jimmy gets you settled. You are just as important, as Tony is.”

 

Gibbs slept fitfully, he was in pain, but it was more than that. He was used to Tony being by his side on the few occasions he actually consented to stay in the hospital. Waking up with Tony’s stocking feet on the bed, his heel pressed to Jethro’s leg while he played one of his games on his phone was how it had been for years. Today, there was a void, that made Gibbs ache. 

 

Easing off the bed, Gibbs made his way to Tony’s side just to check on him. “You okay, Boss?” Tony mumbled through his drugged haze. “Need a nurse or Dr. Taft?”

 

“No,” Gibbs sat down carefully. “I was coming to check on you. Tony, I should have listened to you. I’m sorry.”

 

“Next time, you will. I really don’t want to throw myself between you and four hundred pounds of crazy again.” Tony joked, his eyes sliding closed from exhaustion. What he didn’t realize was how he is words deeply pained Gibbs, he missed the flash of misery, pain and anger on his mentor’s face.

 

“Tony?” Gibbs poked at Tony’s arm to wake him up. “Why in the world did you do that?”

 

“Because, you aren’t 100% healed yet, Gibbs.” Tony yawned. “He would have killed you.”

 

“My life is not of more value that yours, Tony.” Gibbs snarled. “Don't you ever do something so stupid again. You ever do anything like that again and you are off my team. You are lucky that I am not writing you up for that stunt.”

 

The words stung, Tony’s eyes welled up with tears, the medication flowing through his blood stream keeping him from being able to snap his mask in place. Searching for the call button, Tony pressed it, praying that some angel of mercy would hurry to his side.

 

“Anthony?” Ducky moved swiftly across the floor. “I was in the hallway waiting, I saw your light go on. What do you need, dear boy?” Noting the tear that had escaped out of the corner of Tony’s eye, Ducky gently took his friend’s hand in his own. “What’s wrong, Tony?”

 

“Ducky,” Tony whispered softly. “Need a new room.”

 

“Okay,” Ducky nodded, motioning for Palmer to join him. “Keep Anthony company while I go see to finding a new room for our lad.”

 

“I’ve got you, just rest.” Palmer encouraged. “I’m going to go get you a milkshake as soon as we get you settled. That will feel good on your sore throat. Close your eyes, Tony. I’m not leaving your side, just sleep while you can.”

 

Gibbs stood mortified, he couldn’t believe that Tony had actually asked to be moved to another room. The flash of pain on his agent’s face made his gut churn hard. Returning to his bed, Gibbs closed his eyes and prayed sleep would come. He prayed it would come before Tony was transferred, he wasn’t sure he could handle seeing his friend moved to another room, one that he wasn’t welcome in.

 

Tony was moved to a room on the other side of the floor, his nurse helping to get him settled. A mild sedative was ordered under suggestion of Ducky; the elder man having heard the conversation from the hallway. “Sleep,Tony. Mr. Palmer or myself will stay with you. You’re going to be okay.”

 

The scream that came from down the hallway was pure agony. Tony was dreaming, a nightmare. How could Ducky, Palmer or even Senior let it get that far? Did they not know that simply talking to him would have kept them at bay? Gibbs stood in the doorway of his own room, watching to see if he could get a glimpse of anyone that could give him a status report on his agent.

 

“Gibbs,” Bishop walked up to him. “You should be in bed, resting.”

 

“Is DiNozzo, Okay?” Gibbs questioned, raw agony evident in his voice. 

 

“He’s having some complications,” Ellie sighed. “I’ll have Ducky come talk to you; it’s better if he explains.”

 

“You screwed the pooch, on this one, Probie.” Mike’s voice resonated behind Gibbs. “How can you be so damn blind? You are seeing ghosts, because you are not ready to let go. Did it ever occur to you that DiNozzo doesn’t want to be at your funeral any time soon? You never realized how similar your relationship with him was to ours? Before you went and screwed it up by telling him that you already had Leyla set a place for him at dinner? He showed up at your place every holiday to spend it with you. My girls move to Virginia, you replace him with them, then make him feel like an outcast. Real smooth, Probie.”

 

“Duck?” Gibbs almost sounded panicked when his friend appeared. “Is he okay?”

 

“Reaction to some medication that we gave him,” Ducky sighed. “I’m afraid it may be a very long night for the boy; he’s fighting the sedatives.”

 

“Dag nabbit, Probie. Give the man your shirt, have him put it near the boy.” Mike growled. “Despite your excellent hygiene, Gunny, your clothing still smells like sawdust and coffee.”

 

“Duck,” Gibbs moved over to fetch the bag from his drawer. “Could you put this near him, maybe it will help?”

 

Ducky takes the shirt, he’s not really understanding what his old friend is hoping to accomplish by placing dirty laundry with his patient. It doesn’t take but thirty seconds for him to realize the scent from the clothing soothes the lad. “Anthony?” Ducky calls softly. “Do you want Gibbs with you?” Feeling the heat radiating from his patient, the doctor hurries to check his temperature. “Oh my boy, let’s get you some medication for that fever.”

 

“Ducky?” Tony is unable to control the tears, he’s in pain. “Why can’t I ever be good enough?”

 

The words, heard from the doorway, shatter Jethro’s world. Tony sounds like a child that has been berated by a father, a child that has lost all hope that he will ever be loved and accepted. Easing his way into Tony’s room, Gibbs moves a chair so he can sit by his friend’s side. “I’m sorry, Tony.” Gibbs says the words, a tear dropping onto Tony’s cheek, solidifying just how much he means them. 

 

“Boss?” Tony mumbles. “You’re a real bastard sometimes.”

 

“I know,” Gibbs sighed. “Tony, do you remember what I said to you when I hired you?”

 

“No,” Tony’s eyes were heavy with fever and exhaustion. “Hated the orange,” Tony mumbled. 

 

“I said you don’t waste good,” Jethro gently turned Tony’s face towards him, placing a hand on his fever heated cheek. “You’re good, Tony. One of the best damn agents that I have had the honor of working with.” Tony smiled slightly, his breathing starting to deepen. “You’re an even better friend. Better than I deserve, if I am being honest.”

 

“Finally got that right,” Palmer said from the doorway. “It wasn’t Agent DiNozzo that jumped into that murky water to save you and Maddie Tyler. It was your friend, Tony. He knew what that young woman meant to you; that’s why he stopped doing CPR on you, to save her. What you don’t know, he had nightmares every night for a week; that you died. When he woke up, it took him a good hour for me to convince him otherwise.”

 

“I didn’t know,” Gibbs looked at the sleeping form of his friend.

 

“He looked up Shannon and Kelly’s death certificates, found out where they were buried.” Palmer said softly. “I drove him to the cemetery, he sat at their grave for hours telling them about you.”

 

“I don’t understand,” Gibbs looked to Palmer for answers.

 

“He told them of the broken man that was searching for purpose,” Palmer took a deep breath. “That was saved when a man, equally broken, showed up in Baltimore. He told Kelly how her father saved his life by teaching him how to be a son and a good man. He vowed that for as long as he lived, he would make sure you were never alone when it counted.”

 

“He takes flowers to their graves every week,” Ducky said from the doorway. “Your girls and my mother’s graves are always adorned with flowers. For the longest time, I couldn’t figure out where mother’s flowers came from. Until one day, I spotted Anthony at a florist, the bouquet in his hand matched the fresh flowers on mother’s grave. I followed him the next week, he had three bouquets. You can guess the rest.”

 

“He takes Jared to Jackie’s grave once a month,” Leon stepped into the room. “Last week, Jared was having some issues coming to terms with his mother being gone. He told me how Tony told him the story of losing his own mother. He added that he was very lucky to have a father that cared, unlike Tony.”

 

“What time I did spend with my son, I taught him that you screw the world over before it screws you over. You trust no one, you take what you can get because nobody looks after you, but you.” Senior sighed. “You taught him to give, to have faith in himself. You taught him that sometimes, you have to fail to succeed. In my world, that was never allowed. You taught him to be the man he is today, Gibbs.”

 

“When he jumped between you and Wendell, it wasn’t out of some sick puppy dog loyalty, Jethro. It was a man, saving his friend. It was a son, protecting a father. When you believe it or not, the two of you are more like family than most families. You do have an unconventional way of showing your love, but you show it.” Ducky sighed. “Let’s leave these two alone, I do believe that Jethro has some thinking to do.”

 

“Anthony,” Senior moved to his son’s side. “It’s dad, listen to me son. Gibbs is going to stay with you while I go get a shower and some fresh clothes. I love you, son.”

 

“Boss?” Tony sighed. “Ice please.”

 

“Slow,” Gibbs spooned in the ice chips slowly, his heart constricting when he realized just how much this meant to him. “You get enough?”

 

“Yeah,” Tony forced is eyes open. “Sorry that I needed to get away from you.”

 

“I’m sorry that I hurt you,” Gibbs paused to see the emotion flash in Tony’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”

 

“You keep apologizing,” Tony searched Jethro’s face.

 

“You apologize when you hurt family, Tony.” Gibbs watched as a smile touched Tony’s lips. “You’re my family.”

 

“Gibbs,” Tony yawned. “You ever not listen to me again; I will shoot you.”

 

“I’ll load your gun,” Gibbs took Tony’s hand in his own. “Sleep, you need to rest so we can go home. There’s two steaks in the fridge with our names on them.”


End file.
